


Rock Hard

by Alenoriana



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: (brief) - Freeform, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Black Parade Era, Bottom Frank Iero, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Double Anal Penetration, Group Sex, Hospitalization, Hurt Frank Iero, Injury, Lube, M/M, Massage, Multi, Oral Sex, Post-Coital Cuddling, Rough Sex, Sex, The band is the life, Threesome - M/M/M, Top Bob Bryar, Top Gerard Way, Top Mikey Way, Top Ray Toro, Vomiting, all the sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-11 23:01:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20554106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alenoriana/pseuds/Alenoriana
Summary: Frank got injured, again. That itself wasn't anything special or unusual. The fact he wasn't the one at fault this time was.The boys take care of each other, and it's Frank's turn to fall apart a little.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys!  
I honestly thought my first smut will be something vanilla. Well, shit happens.   
I wrote this on my knee, two days straight and damn blushed the whole time.  
(I can't even imagine writing this in my own language, oh god!)  
Got inspired by a video of the boys getting bottled on stage.
> 
> Enjoy and leave kudos and comments, love you!  
Signing from Czech <3

The tour was freaking awesome so far. They were somewhere half way through, getting closer to the west coast with every show, every new city. There were not much problems, surprisingly. They were getting on each other’s nerves sometimes, like usual, getting into arguments, stealing food or invading bunks. But Ray wouldn’t want it any other way. They were brothers, all of them, not just the biological brothers like the Ways. They were bound to each other in a friend-family matter, sometimes not so brotherly-like and more loverly-like, and it was better than anything. 

Today was weird, sort of. The crowd was wild, like usual. Screaming, cheering and banging their heads in the rhythm, but somehow, they seemed more interested in creating a pit and hurling against each other than hurling towards the stage. He didn’t mind though, as long as everyone is having fun he is content in getting them pumped up. He is sure Gerard has his eyes on them as well as security, checking for any kind of real trouble.   
He is strumming his solo of The sharpest lives, his hair bouncing up and down, fingers flying across the ferrets. His feet are planted firmly on the stage, unmovable. Pretty opposite to Frank, who is flying across his side of the stage, going as far as the cable of his guitar allows, trashing and jumping up almost as high as he is himself. He was so alive, pumped and vibrating with energy he yet had to push out of himself to resemble some kind of peace afterwards. Mikey drifted steadily and inconspicuously more towards Ray, getting out of Frank’s destructive way. He always had a sense of self-preservation. Ray looked at him as he strummed away the last notes and wiped his forehead. Mikey smiled lightly, his eye shadows smeared a little down his cheek bones, but still looking fucking fabulous. Ray liked the visual changes they undertook for the Black Parade. New haircuts and colors, darker make-up, eye surgeries. Okay, the last one was really just for Mikey, but still. He grabbed his bottle of water and gulped it down greedily. They were nearly done, just one or two more songs, depending on how much the fans will roar for more. He tucked his hair behind his ear and got back into position. They waited a little longer for everyone to fresh-up a little then jumped right into House of Wolves. It was raw, wild and angry. Ray grinned to himself, playing like his life depended on it, just like everyone else. Gerard paced from side to side like he himself was a hungry wolf looking for a pray, growling into the mic and flinging his arms around.

Just as he got back to his place at the front, something changed. Ray saw a wave go through the crowd, unusual, not fitting. He frowned slightly when the first bottle came flying towards them. It was followed but tens and tens of others. He saw Gerard backing a few steps, but not stopping to sing. He braced himself, turning a little to the side. A bottle hit his shoulder, but he just shrugged and played, not letting himself be bothered. Some people thought they were funny when they did things like this. He felt kind of sorry for anyone who had to clean this mess afterwards. As they were nearing the end of the song, he suddenly noticed a lack of something. He was so used to their instruments that the abrupt absence of rhythmical subtext almost threw him off his own track. He raised his head and looked back at Mikey. Well, at least at the place where Mikey was few seconds earlier. Now he was hunched over at the very opposite side of the stage. Ray let his fingers move on automat and took a few steps in his direction. Now he saw that the younger Way was kneeling beside Frank. Who was lying. On the ground. That itself wouldn’t be so unusual, Frank had a tendency to wipe the stage clean with his shirt, but he saw his legs behind Mikey, just slightly bent and otherwise unmoving. That was not much like him.   
As Ray moved his eyes up again, he noticed Gerard looking at them too, his expression taunt and little bit anxious. He looked at Ray just as they finished, gesturing him towards his bandmates. They had to close the show, Ray knew. He just nodded and made his way to the other side.

“We will give you one last song, motherfuckers, and the song’s called Cancer!” Gerard yelled and the stage darkened, focusing the lights just on him, allowing others to disappear from sight. Ray unhooked his guitar and laid it down against one of the speakers. Someone will collect it later, now he needed to know what the fuck happened. Mikey raised his head as he got to them.

“What the hell happened?” he asked and knelt down as well. Did Frank twist his ankle again or something?

“Something… something fucking hit me…” Frank stuttered and groaned. He was lying still, too still, one hand on Mikey’s knee, other on his chest, his guitar still wrapped around his neck and resting in his lap. Ray couldn’t see shit in the dark, they had to get to the backstage somewhere.

“Can you stand up?” Mikey asked, gently disentangling the instrument from the smaller man’s body. Frank was silent for a moment, so uncommon for him.

“No. My head’s freaking dizzy…” he said then. Ray cursed and hooked his arms under Frank’s knees and back. They couldn’t let him just lay on the stage, letting all the people see something was off. He scooped him up carefully, lifting him bridal style and quickly carrying him from the stage, Mikey following close behind them. Gerard’s voice quietened as they got into brightly lit hallway, boxes and shit lying all around. Ray laid Frank down slowly, getting a better look at him now they had a proper lighting. The smaller guitarist groaned and shut his eyes tight. Running from his hairline and a little bit across his forehead there was an angry red cut, not weeping blood but close. 

“What the fuck,” Mikey said. “What did you do?”

“Did nothing… was a good boy,” Frank chuckled weakly and winced. “Something hit me as they bottled us,” he murmured and took a few deep breaths. Ray noticed one of his legs trembled a little and put a hand on his knee to keep him still. 

“I’m gonna get the paramedics,” Mikey announced and jogged away down the hall. Ray stayed seated on the ground beside him.

“Did you see what it was?” he asked. It didn’t matter that much, but he wanted to keep him talking and focused. 

“No,” came a quiet replay after few seconds. His voice was hazy and fading. Ray leaned over him and patted his cheek.

“Frank, Frank look at me, c’mon, don’t sleep,” he watched as his big hazel eyes fluttered open and blinked at him.

“That’s right. Did you see who threw it?” he continued. He was freaking out inside silently, not knowing at all what he was doing, but he tried to look calm and reassuring as Frank focused intently on his face. 

“No. Didn’t see shit Ray, was fuckin’ gettin’ bottled, man… Ow fuck, I think I’m gonna be sick…” he moaned and gulped. Color was slowly draining from his face and Ray hoped it was just from the shock.  
Mikey returned after a few minutes with the paramedics. They had a medical stretcher on wheels with them rolling loudly in the otherwise empty hallway. A woman, with short brown ponytail and bright orange jacket, knelt down next to them.

“Hello. I’m Veronica,” she smiled at Frank and he hummed in response. 

“I’m going to do some quick checks, okay,” she said and her colleague handed her a small flashlight. She gently touched Frank’s cheeks and shone it in his eyes. 

“Do you remember where you are?” she asked casually as she checked the delating of his pupils. 

“Yes,” the guitarist said with a small delay. 

“Do you have any other pain aside from you head? Your back maybe, or neck,” she continued and slipped a blood pressure cuff on his arm.

“No,” he answered slowly again. It took him a little longer this time, sounding strangled. 

“Okay, good. You got a pretty hit on your head. It doesn’t look too severe, but we will take you to the hospital to make sure we don’t miss anything, okay?” Frank just hummed again.

“I found it!” Bob called as the hurried with Gerard towards them from the stage. Ray didn’t even notice they finished the show.

“Frankie, are you all right?” Gerard hurled himself to his side, but touched him just gently on his shoulder. Normally he would just grab him and squeeze him, but he was apparently scared to not hurt him in any way.

“He’s going to be okay,” Veronica smiled again then turned to Bob. “May I see what it was?” she asked.

Bob shoved her a piece of concreate brick. “Some fucking asshole threw a fucking stone at him instead of a bottle,” he cursed angrily.

“How can anyone be such a fuck-up, they could have killed him with this!” Mikey exclaimed. “Did you see who threw it?”

Bob shook his head a looked grimly towards the stage.

“You were lucky, this could have ended ugly,” Veronica commented. “We will lift you on the stretcher now. Make room please.”   
Ray stood up and they let the paramedics take a hold of the small man.

“No no no, guys don’t move me or I will puke,” Frank whimpered before they carefully lifted him from the ground and onto the stretcher. 

They adjusted him a little and, oh man he wasn’t kidding about the puking. Frank lent to the side and threw up, his veggie burger he had for dinner leaving him in mere seconds, slightly catching the boots of one of the paramedics. Ray grimaced and turned his eyes away. He saw much worse things, during their lives together he probably saw every single one of them vomit their guts out, from different and various causes. None of that got into his top five of disgust. Frank heaved and coughed for a while more before they gently eased him back down. He was so pale he looked like Gerard, his forehead slightly glistening with sweat.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, eyeing the paramedic who held him and got his boots recolored. 

“Don’t worry about it, it happens,” the man just chuckled slightly and secured him on the stretcher.

“I will get someone to clean this up,” Bob murmured and disappeared quickly around the corner. Veronica and her colleagues each got hold of the stretcher and headed slowly down the hall towards the exit, the rest of the band following close behind them. When they got finally out of the maze of hallways and corridors, the ambulance was waiting for them on the parking lot. The cold evening air was refreshing and Ray looked around to make sure some dickhead wasn’t filming them or anything. Luckily they were still alone, as the main entrance was on the other side of the building and the fans didn’t make it here yet to hunt autographs and photos with them. That couldn’t take much longer though. As he thought, he felt a cold damp hand sneak its way into his. He looked down and Frank was watching him, his eyes large and slightly disoriented.

“Come with me…?” he murmured. Ray looked at Veronica and she nodded.

“Sure thing, but only one,” she said as they got the stretcher into the car. Frank’s fingers slipped from his grasp and he heard him whimper again, as the movement probably disturbed his stomach once more. He looked at Mikey and Gerard who stood behind him the whole time.

“You go. We will wait for Bob and follow you with the van, just text us the address,” the singer smiled reassuringly, tucking his sweaty black hair away from his face. Ray nodded and got into the ambulance just as they were ready to go. 

“Take care of him, Ray!” Mikey called and the doors shut. He got seated in the front corner, near Frank’s head, where he could talk to him and keep him calm, gently petting his hair. The smaller man wasn’t afraid of doctors or anything, but even then he trembled lightly and his hand was holding Ray’s so hard his knuckles were white. Ray just took it. It will be alright. He’s doing to be fine, he repeated to himself.

*

He was right, of course. As well as Veronica and anyone else who said it. Frank vomited once more in the ambulance when the driver took one turn took quickly, but they were prepared this time, fortunately. From there, it was just up the hill. In the hospital they patched his head, the cut was actually so small it didn’t even need sewing. They took him to do X-ray, to make sure his skull wasn’t cracked or some shit, Ray didn’t listen much to this. When the results came out all good, the doctor telling them he had a concussion but nothing worse, he was given some painkillers and lots of water, then laid down for an hour or so to make sure he will not pass out the moment he left the hospital. In the meantime all the guys joined Ray in the waiting room. He told them the news, shoved them were the coffee machine was and then they waited. And waited.

As the adrenaline slowly seeped away from him, he felt the exhaustion take its place. He was sweaty, dirty, wrung out and quite surprisingly hungry a little. Mikey and Gerard were sat opposite him, the ladder snoring quietly on the bassist’s shoulder while Mikey read some lame ass magazine he found. Bob was hunched in the corner, playing something on his phone. Ray himself was ready to curl up and sleep right on the bench he was set on when he saw a nurse walking Frank slowly down the hall. He held tightly to her forearm for support, but otherwise looked less like death than before. 

“Hey guys,” he smiled at them weakly. 

“If it isn’t our lost son,” Mikey quipped and shook his brother awake. Ray rose up and replaced the nurse as a supporter.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Like I’ve been hit by a fucking truck,” Frank sighed, but the spark in his eye was back and he didn’t seem foggy anymore. 

“Nice band aid,” Bob commented his patched forehead.

“What should we do with him?” Ray asked the nurse who was patiently waiting beside them. 

“Nothing much. Just rest for a few days, don’t exercise, don’t drive, don’t stress, drink a lot of water, not alcohol. It’s possible you will get sick again at some point, you may have headaches for a few days, but otherwise nothing important,” she listed and handed them back Frank’s wallet and piercings, which they had to take out for the X-ray, in a small plastic bag. “Just stay relaxed,” she smiled, said her goodbye and left.

“You heard, Frank? Rest and stay relaxed, so don’t fuck around like usual,” Gerard chuckled as they slowly left the hospital.

“Don’t worry. Now I just want some food and a good film to watch.”

“Didn’t you throw up?” Bob asked.

“Twice?” Ray added.

“Four times, actually, yeah. Now I’m fucking hungry.”


	2. Chapter 2

The next day they had a long bus ride through nothing of middle north-west. Their next venue was day and a half away, luckily, so Frank had quite some time to recover. He was good, mostly. He slept a lot or just watched TV. He didn’t faint, throw up or bleed from his brain, he was just a lot slower than his normal hyperactive self. Which was actually a speed of any other normal being in general, therefore pretty fine. 

They just parked by a gas station for a while. Gerard, Mikey and Bob went for some snacks and a smoke, Ray stayed with Frank aboard. They were lying on the couch, Ray tucked in the corner and Frank laying with his back to his chest, snuggled tightly in his arms. He was warm and quiet, almost peaceful, if it wasn’t for the fucking tremble in his leg. It was nearly fifteen minutes without a stop now and Ray had enough.

“’Kay, what is it?” he asked suddenly over the Dexter episode they were watching. Frank turned his head slightly to look at him.

“What do you mean?” he asked. Ray looked down at him.

“Your leg. It trembles the whole bus. Are you okay?” he explained. Frank looked at his own leg like he didn’t even realize it was moving then slowly tried to relax it.

“Sorry,” he murmured and squirmed a little. Ray tugged him closer, but as his hands roamed Frank’s body, he noticed the tension in his muscles. His arms and shoulders were locked, his abdomen tight.

“Why are you so tense?” he asked and probed him lightly. Frank shrugged.

“Don’t know. Can’t really relax since that fucking rock,” he admitted and sighed. Ray bit his lip a little and thought. He knew why Frank was like this, he always got squirmy and twitchy and bouncing from the walls when he had accumulated too much energy in himself without a way to let it out. Normally he would go out, do some shit, climb trees and lamp poles or something, but he couldn’t. His own body, still weak from the incident, didn’t allow him to do much.

“Where do you have that beauty-hydroshit cream of yours?” Ray asked and crawled his way out from under him gently. Frank lifted himself on his elbows.

“It’s hydrogel skin cream. And it’s in my bag, but why?” He raised an eyebrow at Ray as the latter rummaged in their things, looking for Frank’s backpack. He found it and fished out a small tube of coconut smelling cream too girlish for his own taste, but it was moist and would be perfect for his plan. 

“I’m gonna make you relax a little,” he smiled at him and set down beside him.

“You know I shouldn’t do any heavy physical activity,” Frank giggled with that shit eating grin of his. Ray rolled his eyes and grabbed his hips, bodily turning him over onto his stomach on the couch. 

“I’m gonna massage you, you dickhead,” he chuckled and sat down over smaller man’s tights.

“Oh. Okay,” he giggled again and pulled his t-shirt over his head. Ray smoothed his hands up his back, making him lay down. He then purred small amount of cream on his palms and started slowly but firmly rubbing his shoulders, neck, between his shoulder blades across the dark tattoos, so nicely contrasting with his pale skin. He continued down along his spine, the curve of his back, the guns on his hips all the way to his waistband. He continued this for some time and felt Frank slowly melting under his fingers, his body warming up and softening, going lax. He roamed with his eyes over lean muscles, now slightly glistening with moisture, and felt his dick taking interest in the action. Why not, they all more or less slept together, bonded together. It was actually the ideal solution to almost every problem they had.   
An argument? Fuck. Too much stress? Fuck. Creative block? That’s right – fuck. You know how Gerard got sober in seventeen days? They fucked his brains out almost constantly, occupying him so much he didn’t even have time to think about anything else. It was basically the answer to the world peace and everyone saw everything, so they didn’t even have to worry if the guys came back in the middle of their screwing. The problem was Frank was supposed to rest.   
Ray frowned lightly as he pressed down between his shoulder blades and heard a crack, followed by a loud moan from the man under him. Frank had his eyes closed, lips parted slightly and shining red. He looked so beautiful, so lithe and small. Ray was sure if he really wanted, he could snap him right in the middle with the way his rather large hands gripped his waist, but that would be a waste.

“Rayyyy…” Frank moaned again and the guitarist felt him trying to move his hips against the cushions. He grinned.

“What is that Frankie, you want something?” he asked innocently. They of course both knew it was coming to this all along and that they both were interested in it.

“Can you… just do something,” he whined and squirmed as Ray gripped his hips hard. He leant forward and rubbed his clothed cock against his ass, getting a low groan out of him. It wouldn’t be exercising if Frank was just lying down, would it?

“You want that? Want something inside of you, getting you all loose and pliant?” he murmured and was rewarded with furious nodding.

“Yeah yeah, that sounds good,” Frank breathed and folded his arms under his head, curving his back a little more. Ray growled low in his throat and lifted himself, getting rid of his clothes, pulling down Frank’s pants and boxers in one swift motion and throwing it all away. He grabbed a proper lube from his own backpack and sat back down over Frank’s legs, trapping him. He tilted his head and grabbed a handful of his ass, small but plush and curvy, just right for fucking.

“Such a nice ass you got Frankie,” he said and slapped it lightly. Frank gasped softly but stayed still, forehead rested on his forearms. Ray lubed up his fingers, tracing them slowly up and down Frank’s cleft for a moment, then around the entrance. He felt him tense a little, so he resumed massaging his back with his other hand, getting him all soft again. He pushed one finger in, slick and hot enveloping him. Frank groaned silently and pushed back a little, opening up. Ray moved in and out few times before adding another digit, getting a little deeper. Frank’s legs were locked closed by Ray’s knees, but he still felt him subconsciously trying to spread them to allow him a better access. Ray was content for now, the smaller man felt it a lot more like this. He thrusted deep with his fingers, scissoring them and spreading, making him whimper into the couch. He curled them towards his stomach and brushed right against his prostate. Frank jolted and moaned wantonly loud. Ray pulled his fingers out replacing them with his thumb, pressing down against that spot, at the same time rubbing it from the outside through the perineum. Frank jerked and grabbed at the cushions, pushing back against him.

“Fuuuuck, fuck Ray…. Mmmmhhh, please fuck,” he whispered breathily. The guitarist tortured his sweet spot for a while longer till he was nearly sobbing then shoved three fingers inside him again, setting hard and deep rhythm. Small ah’s fell from the smaller man’s lips, catching in his throat when Ray shoved his pinkie in. Frank arched his back and threw his head back with a slightly pained gasp, rocking back and forth on Ray’s fingers.

The bus door opened and the intimate atmosphere was interrupted by loud laughter. Bob and the Ways stumbled inside, only stopping once the doors closed behind them again. There was a moment of silence, the three of them looking at naked Ray, his hand deep in naked and flushed Frank’s ass.

“Oh well,” Gerard announced and started stripping. Mikey just rolled his eyes and went to put the food away while Bob fell on the other side of the couch and kept watching them amused. 

“How is it you are not letting our baby rest?” Gerard asked when he stood there only in his boxers, stark pale and hot.

“He is. I’m just helping him relax,” Ray smirked and thrusted hard again, forcing a groan from the other man.

“Helping relax? Was he quivering around cause he was too strung up again?” he guessed. Oh, how they knew him. Ray nodded with a wide grin and Gerard smirked wickedly, stepping closer and leaning down to Frank’s ear.

“Then we should wear him out. If he is properly exhausted, he will be good, am I right? Do you want that? Do you want us to take you apart and back together, make you forget about your head for a while? To open you up so much you will feel it for days?” he asked hotly. Ray heard himself and several other people moan at that. They had done it before, but rarely. Frank took a while to center himself, then he nodded. Gerard licked his lips and looked over at Ray, who was still fingering him, the resistance in his muscles now nearly nonexistent. 

“You want to fuck him first?” he asked and palmed himself through his underwear. Ray wanted to say yes, he really wanted, but suddenly there was Mikey whispering in his ear.

“We could take him together later, if you would like,” he said and Ray nearly came just like that. The thought was so hot. Frank would be so opened up after getting fucked from everyone else, they would just need lots of lube, something there was always plenty of on their tour bus. He gulped and nodded, extracting his fingers from Frank, ignoring his pitiful whimper, and moving out of the way. Out of the Way’s way, exactly. Gerard hungrily took his place, shedding his boxers and grabbing Frank’s hips. He knelt on the couch, lifting the guitarist up a little and setting him in his lap, legs spread around Gerard’s tights, face still buried in the couch pillows and back arched. Ray sat down by Frank’s head and patted his hair lightly. He felt Mikey beside him, plastering himself to Ray’s side and palming himself slowly through his jeans. All eyes were on the pair in the middle. The singer admired his view for a while, sucking on two fingers covering them in salvia and pushing them inside just to make sure he was good and ready then he quickly stroked himself to full hardness and nudged his tip against Frank’s entrance. He pushed in, head tilting back and a string of curses leaving his mouth. Frank shuddered and moaned at being finally stretched so good around someone. Gerard bottomed out and stayed still for a moment, hands roaming over Frank’s sides and back.

“Why are you so slippery?” he asked with a quiet laughter. Frank just groaned, so Ray answered for him.

“I made him a massage,” he said and heard Mikey chuckle. 

“Yeah, ‘massage’.” He could hear the quotation marks in that. 

Gerard just shook his head and rocked his hips, setting a quick and brutal pace. Frank whimpered and mewled every time he hit his prostate, the sound of skin against skin resonating through the bus. The small guitarist tried to sneak his hand between his legs and jerk himself off, but Gerard swatted his hand away.

“I bet you wanna wait with coming, you will get much more,” he breathed and jerked Frank’s body a little forward with the force of his hips. Frank whined, long and wanting, but rested his hands down and just took it, moaning and cursing till Gerard was suddenly coming with a strangled shout, his thrust out of rhythm. He grinded against Frank’s ass, his nails digging into his skin and leaving pink crescent marks. After he was done he pulled out slowly and carefully, gently kissing Frank lower back and moving away. Ray watched Bob take his place, calm and firm. He lent down, tracing down Frank’s body with his lips, kissing his way over the Search and Destroy tattoos until he got all the way down. He parted his cheeks slightly and licked a wide stripe over him, making him shudder. 

“Ah, fucking shitshitshit, ooh fuck,” Frank gritted through his teeth as he lapped at him and teased him.

“Bob, fuck, would you like… touch my dick maybe? That would be fucking awesome…” he groaned and gripped Ray’s tight with one hand. 

“Only if you ask nicely,” Bob taunted and lick him again with a smirk. Frank let his head fall between his shoulders.

“Please, asshole,” he growled light heartedly. Bob sat back and smacked his tight loudly.

“Turn around you midget,” he ordered and opened his zipper, getting his pants out of the way. Frank flopped around on his back, uttering a quiet ‘fuck you’ and splayed his legs. Ray got a perfect view on his blushed face and couldn’t resist caressing his cheek. Frank sighed and lent into his touch. Bob got between his legs in the meantime, pushing Frank’s legs up over his shoulders and lined up. He kept his world and got a fist around his shaft, stroking him lazily as he pushed inside him, breaching him and filling him up again. The dark haired man gasped, his mouth falling open and keened, pushing back. Bob started slow but deep, grinding against his bottom and jerking him off a little faster, twisting his wrist over his tip, thumbing at his slit. He was leaking already, the precum making the slide easier. 

“Yeaaah, yeah don’t stop,” Frank purred and writhed under him. His eyes were closed and he emitted tiny blissful noises, his hair plastered and sweaty against his face. 

“Fuck, I wish I could draw you like this,” Gerard said from somewhere and Frank moaned silently, his brows drawing together and back arching.

“You gonna come, Frankie? Gonna come like this?” Bob grunted and moved his hand faster. Frank nodded, breathing quickly and tensing.

“Yes, yes…” he chanted, visibly getting closer with every stroke.

“I’m gonna… fuck, I’m gonna co-ome,” he stuttered, his words catching in his throat. His body shuddered violently as he came hard over Bob’s fist and his own stomach, tights quivering and toes curling. He moaned, keeping his eyes shut till he came down from his height. Bob eased himself out of him, letting his legs drop down and climbed up his body, straddling his chest, holding his still hard dick in Frank’s face, touching his lips lightly to let him know. The smaller man opened his eyes, focusing for a moment then grinned. He licked and parted his lips, sticking his tongue out and waited. He made no effort to lift himself up, so Bob grabbed him by his nape, lifting his head slightly, and pushed into his mouth. Frank hummed, sucking for a while, clearly enjoying this very much.

“Don’t worry, it’s almost our turn,” Mikey whispered into Ray’s ear, startling him. He was so mesmerized by the scene next to him he didn’t notice Mikey got naked and was eyeing Ray’s junk hungrily. He did not make a move to get down on him though, just waiting and stroking himself slowly. Ray was so hard he had to squeeze the base of his dick to keep himself of the edge when Bob took Frank’s head in both hands and started fucking his mouth. Frank rolled his eyes back, hands grasping for anything to hold on, making short gagging noises every time Bob pushed down his throat. Ray saw Gerard laying between his legs again, his head bobbing up and down slightly, clearly sucking him back to hardness. 

Bob grunted and pushed Frank against his crotch, nose nearly touching his happy line, groaning and coming down his throat. Frank gaged, eyes watering and single tear slipping over his cheek, trying not to choke to death on his band mate’s cock. It was eternity when Bob finally let him pull away, so long Ray actually almost started to worry if Frank hadn’t passed out from the lack of oxygen. The guitarist coughed and gasped for breath, spit covering his lips and chin. He looked fucking wracked already, dazed and glistening with sweat. So fucking hot.

“Fuck Gerard…” he moaned when Bob moved away from him and he could finally look down at what the singer was doing. He let his again-hard dick fall out of his mouth with a wet pop and winked, twisting his wrist and pulling his fingers out of him. 

Oh, so he was fingering him as well, Ray thought bluntly. 

Mikey got up and together with his brother they lifted Frank up, slowly, nobody wanted to be puked on again. He looked like his limbs were made of gelatin, wobbly and barely supporting him. They moved him over to Ray’s lap, sitting him down with his back to the taller man’s chest, quite similar to the position they were in at the very beginning. Except they were naked. And horny. Ray’s dick was snuggly pressed against Frank ass, he could fuck him just like this. But there were plans, important hot plans to be followed. Mikey knelt down in front of them, smirking up at them both. Grabbed Frank’s legs and pushed them up.

“Can you hold these form me, thanks,” he asked Ray and the guitarist complied, just nodding and following along. He didn’t have one single complaint yet, enjoying everything and suspecting it will just get better.

“Mikey… what are you doing?” Frank breathed as Ray held him open, obscenely spread before the bassist. Mikey just sushed him gently, kissing and caressing his inner tights. Ray followed his lead and sucked on his scorpion tattoo, creating nice cute hickie before nibbling at his jaw. Frank let his head fall back on his shoulder, groaning hotly.

“I’m gonna open you up really nice Frankie,” Mikey whispered and Ray felt him touching and grabbing his dick, spreading a lube on him. He tilted his hips a little, lifting Frank the fuck up like he weighted nothing, letting him back down slowly when he felt Mikey lining him up. Frank moaned loudly, his legs jerking as he was once again filled up. It was so much hotter in this position as he had no way of stopping it, just taking it deep and full. Of course, at first sight he wasn’t enjoying it or that he wanted to stop they would stop, no matter what. They were lovers, not animals. But he just breathed deep, squeezing Ray inside him, accommodating his length. Ray was quite remarkably large, thick and long, so it usually took a while to get used to him. He used this time to shut his eyes and imagine something really gross, like dead puppies and shit, to keep from coming right away. Frank still felt so tight, even though he knew he wasn’t, so hot and wet. Just as he was about to start moving, he felt Mikey’s fingers again. They traced around Frank’s fluttering and stretched hole, making him gasp.

“Fuck Mikey,” Ray cursed, he knew what he was doing. He still had to open him up a little more so make sure they will not hurt him. He felt him push beside him, slick and unrelenting, until Frank’s muscles gave and he slipped his finger inside. The small man in his arms wailed, arching and jerking. Ray pushed his legs more towards his chest so he could lock him in place, trapping his arms in the process. He really felt so tiny like this, so tiny he was amazed they were about to shove two dicks up his bum at once. He looked to the side for a moment and saw Gerard sitting in Bob’s lap, slowly and lazily riding him as they both watched the show with dark, lustful eyes. He moved his attention back to Frank whose breathing was uneven and erratic. He nudged the side of his head with his nose then kissed him softly when he turned it. It was slow and sweet, innocent and heartwarming, something quite different to what was happening lower, as Mikey got his second finger next to Ray’s length and was carefully stretching Frank more and more. 

“Ray…” he whispered against his lips, quiet and small. Ray pulled back to look at him. Large orbs were staring back at him, the hazel irises almost gone, blown away by his gigantic pupils. If Ray didn’t know better he would think he was high as a kite. 

“P-please…” he moaned and it was so soft and vulnerable Ray’s heart broke a little. He held him close and whispered praises and sweet little things to him as Mikey prepped him, said he was so good for them, so hot and perfect, that they will take care of him, that HE will take care of him. Frank sobbed quietly when Mikey got to three fingers, but not from pain, from overwhelming love they shared.

“Fuck, you are so wet, all dripping Frank,” Mikey growled and got up. He knelt one leg on the couch and lined himself up.

“You ready?” he asked, looking flushed a little, getting Frank’s attention. 

“Y-yes, yes,” he said brokenly and nodded. Mikey took hold of one of his legs, letting Ray plant his hand over Frank’s chest, and pushed slowly. Ray shut his eyes, the pressure making his dick twitch inside. He heard Frank yelping, gasping and crying out, the sounds more pained than anything else. When Mikey got the tip inside he stopped, stroking Frank’s tights comfortingly.

“Breathe, Frank,” Ray said and rubbed his palm over his chest, over his lungs not taking any air in. He felt him shudder, hot tears hitting his shoulder before he heaved an uneasy breath, than another till he was respiring correctly again. They kissed him, stroked him and caressed him, distracted him from the overwhelming pressure in his ass.

“Fuck,” he whined, high-pitched. “Fuck, I feel like I’m gonna split in two… fuck…”

“Do you want us to stop?” Mikey asked, his voice low and velvet like. Frank shook his head slowly.

“No. No I’m good, it’s just… so fucking much. You’re stretching me so wide…” he moaned and relaxed bit by bit again. Ray rubbed his fingers over his nipple, pinching slightly, distracting him as Mikey push forward very slowly, filling him till he bottomed up.

“You are so tight, Frankie, so perfect for us,” the younger Way praised and kissed him sloppily. He gave him few more seconds before he started moving, pulling out a little then pushing back inside. Ray moaned, the drag over his dick combined with tight wetness getting him just that tiny bit harder than he already was. They each took a hold of Frank and lifted him slightly witch each thrust, lowering him back down on their lengths like he was just a toy. When they got a quicker pace going all that left Frank’s mouth was a string of wanton moaning slurring into one never ending whine. He was falling apart, crumbling under Ray’s hands like a house of cards, completely letting them take control. It was ages since they last got him like this, but they knew they will puzzle him back together afterwards. All that energy, pain and worry just seeped away from him, letting him just feel, feel and not care.

He came with a violent shudder, clenching around them and that was it for Ray. He shouted, cursed and thrusted up roughly, spilling inside him. He then let his head fall back and got lost in his height, almost not aware of Mikey still chasing his orgasm. One thrust, two, three… and he stilled, eyes tight shut and mouth agape. Ray felt him painting Frank’s insides, hot and sticky then suddenly the small man between them whimpered and came for second time in a row, this time almost dry. The room was filled with panting, gasping and really thick smell of sex. No one moved for a few days, at least it seemed like it. Ray was trapped at the very bottom of the sex heap, so he just waited for anyone to initiate their return to reality. 

He opened his eyes when he heard a quiet sob. He turned his head and found Frank crying softly, just letting tears stream down his face, his beautiful, sweat and spit glistening blissed out face. Mikey lifted himself and very slowly eased his softening dick out. Frank clenched around Ray weakly, making squelching sound as some of their come trickled out of him. The bassist slowly lowered his legs down, making him sit in Ray’s lap normally. He was trembling, but otherwise soft and lax like a piece of butter. Ray rubbed his stomach, experimentally pushing down on his lower abdomen. Frank’s breath hitched and he tilted his hips forward, allowing Ray to feel the blunt bulge deep in his guts for a few seconds before relaxing again. The taller man played with the idea of getting them some big ass dildo somewhere, just to see who will look the best like they had an Alien in their tum. He shook his head and pushed it away, for now at least. 

Gerard appeared in front of them, boxers back on and gentle smile on his lips. He helped him get Frank up and onto the couch, letting Ray slip out of him. Fuck, he was like a ragdoll. This must be how dragging a corpse feels like. Gee brought a warm washcloth and carefully wiped Frank's spent body, tapping on his abused ass really lightly. He still whimpered. They then took a soft fluffy blanket and tucked him into it like a giant burrito. They all sat down after that, getting drinks and chips and other shit they desired, folding across each other and turning on the tv. Frank laid squished between Ray and Gerard, cute and hugged from both sides.

“Thank you, guys,” he murmured half asleep already. They smiled at each other and Ray kissed the side of his head.

“You are welcome baby.”


End file.
